


One More Drop

by Snegurochka



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-05
Updated: 2008-11-05
Packaged: 2017-10-10 23:03:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/105375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snegurochka/pseuds/Snegurochka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"It's not legal; I know it's not. You can't use Veritaserum to interrogate anyone without a warrant from the Wizengamot." Scorpius's eyes narrowed as Harry failed to hide the twitch in his jaw. "Which you very well know, Auror Potter."</i></p><p>8,100 words. NC-17. Scorpius is 17. Unrequited H/D in the background. Written for the 'drug use' theme at daily_deviant. November 2008.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One More Drop

**Author's Note:**

> Giant thanks to klynie1, bewarethesmirk and islandsmoke for the beta work.

The slim phial felt like a lead weight in Harry's fist. He slammed it down on the table separating him and the boy before uncurling his fingers and lifting his hand away to reveal the clear liquid sitting innocently inside. Wiping his sweaty palm across his thigh, he grabbed a chair, swung it backwards, and straddled it. He tried to muster the bravado to actually threaten this stupid kid.

He couldn't believe it had come to this, with the stakes so high that he even had to entertain the thought of _forcing_ the kid to talk.

A pair of narrowed grey eyes focused on the phial. "You wouldn't."

"No?" said Harry, tapping his fingers on the back of the chair. "Try me, Scorpius. I'm going to ask you one more time to cooperate with us. If you give me one more cheeky answer, that's the end of it. No more chances." He paused, leaning forward. "I'll pour that whole phial down your throat just for the pleasure of hearing not only where your bloody father is hiding out, but every other secret you've had in your entire life."

Scorpius swallowed at that, his lips thinning at he continued to stare at the phial, and Harry tilted his head to the side. What _was_ the kid hiding, besides his father's location, and along with it the location of the money Malfoy had swindled from the goblins a month earlier? "You wouldn't dare," murmured Scorpius, finally raising his eyes. "It's not legal; I know it's not. You can't use it to interrogate anyone without a warrant from the Wizengamot." His eyes narrowed as Harry failed to hide the twitch in his jaw. "Which you very well know, Auror Potter," he concluded, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms over his chest.

Harry took a deep breath, resisting the urge to tug at his hair and reprimand the boy for his attitude. He was a veteran of the force, for Christ's sake; he couldn't let one bratty kid get under his skin like this – especially not one bratty kid with the same cool eyes, high cheekbones and sneering lips as his father.

Fuck.

"Been studying up on Wizarding law, have you?" said Harry, rolling his eyes as he tried to regain control of the situation. "Don't strain yourself; Malfoys aren't known for their book learning, you know."

Scorpius merely quirked an eyebrow. "Is that the best you can do, sir?" he drawled, lingering on the last word, and Harry swallowed as a wave of heat pulsed at the base of his spine. "I would like to go home now. I've told you," he continued with practiced ease, "my mother and I have no idea where my father is."

Harry dropped his head, pushing one hand through his messy hair. "Look, Scorpius," he tried again, softening his tone, "I know you're just trying to protect him, and I understand that. You're a close family. That's great. But we're not going to hurt your dad if you tell us where he is. I promise you, okay? We just want to ask him some questions."

The Aurors probably wouldn't hurt him, no, but Harry decided not to tell Scorpius that the goblins were ready to tear his father's limbs off, and wreak havoc on the Ministry's accounts – and worse – if the Aurors didn't bring him in soon. Bill had come by just that morning to give Harry the official warning. _If Malfoy's not in custody by the end of the week, Harry, they're going to freeze the accounts and credit of every witch and wizard in England. They're not playing games anymore. The whole fucking system will collapse_.

Scorpius's pink tongue sneaked out, sliding lightly over his bottom lip as he seemed to give Harry's words some thought.

Harry stared.

"I already told you." Harry started when Scorpius spoke again, shaking himself out of his reverie. The boy tilted his head side to side to emphasise the words. "I don't _know_." He paused, his eyes locked on Harry. "And I have to say, sir, if you weren't so busy worrying about _my_ family, perhaps _yours_ wouldn't be such a disaster, hm?"

Harry felt the vein at his temple begin to throb. His lips parted in disbelief as he stared at the kid, rage flashing through him. "Shut your mouth, Mal– Scorpius," he said before taking a deep breath. "You're a child. You have no fucking clue what you're talking about."

"Oh, but I've hit a nerve, haven't I?" Scorpius grinned, lounging in his chair. "Let's see... I had a perfectly logical reason to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas holidays this year, what with my father being a fugitive and my mother too distraught to deal with me. But what were Albus and Lily's reasons? Just couldn't decide which dysfunctional parent to bother with, I suppose."

Harry took a deep breath through his nose, hoping the cold air of the metallic, nearly-bare room would calm his building anger. It didn't. He couldn't risk the goblins making good on their threat, and he couldn't spend one more minute in this room playing verbal Quidditch with Scorpius fucking Malfoy. Without giving it another moment's thought, without pausing to remind himself of the consequences, he pushed himself off his chair, grabbed his wand and aimed it at the three small cameras hovering above their heads like languid Snitches, capturing the events of the interrogation from every angle. With a well-timed spell, he shut them down, directing them into the palm of his hand. He shoved them in his pocket and then tipped his wand up to his throat, speaking quietly.

"No sound, mates," he murmured to his team outside. "Give me a few minutes alone with this kid, all right? I think I can get him to talk."

A voice sounded almost immediately in his earpiece. "Sure about that, boss?"

Harry turned away from Scorpius, restraining himself from firing a hex through the wall. "Do you really think I've made it this far in my career by using illegal potions on teenagers?" he whispered fiercely. "It's for show, Collins. For Christ's sake. Just turn the fucking sound off." He tore his earpiece out and flung it on the table, turning again to face Scorpius with narrowed eyes. "Do you know what I just did?"

Scorpius shrugged. "Sealed your fate, looks like," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Don't be stupid, _sir_," he added, gesturing to the lonely phial still sitting on the table. "You can't use that on me."

Harry reached out and grabbed the phial, clutching it in his fist and holding it up in front of Scorpius's face. Twisting his hand, he manoeuvred the small bottle into a pinch between his thumb and forefinger, and then he leaned forward, close enough to Scorpius that he could feel his breath and watch the fear dance in his eyes. "Try me," he murmured.

Scorpius stared at him, cold grey eyes searching Harry's face as a brush of colour rose in his cheeks and his lips slowly parted. As Harry watched, Scorpius leaned forward in his chair, bringing him even closer to Harry and the phial, and with his gaze still locked on Harry, he opened his mouth a bit and let his tongue curl out. He paused with the tip upturned outside his top lip, daring Harry to place a drop on it.

Harry nearly swayed on the spot before collecting himself, closing his eyes briefly against the pink of that tongue and the brazenness of that sodding Malfoy attitude. "Fine," he bit out, straightening himself. He closed his hand around Scorpius's jaw, trying to keep his mouth open, but as if realising at last that Harry really wasn't joking, Scorpius struggled to free himself, sealing his lips and grunting in protest at Harry's grip.

Harry paused, a wave of regret washing over him. What on earth did he think he was doing, forcing Veritaserum down a kid's throat? If any Auror on his force tried something like this, he would personally ensure the officer never worked for the Ministry again. He released his hold on Scorpius's face, shoving him away and tearing his lingering eyes from the red marks around Scorpius's jaw.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, turning away from Scorpius and pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead.

The room was silent for the span of another few breaths before a sharp peal of laughter sounded behind Harry. He dropped his hand and stiffened, still facing the far wall. "Wow, my father really was right about you," said Scorpius, contempt dripping from his voice. "Always so constrained by your allegiance to doing the _right thing_, aren't you? I hear you used to fight Death Eaters with _Expelliarmus_." He laughed again, soft and slippery, the sound seeping into Harry's ear. He balled his hands into fists.

"Where is your father, Scorpius?" asked Harry one more time through gritted teeth. The phial was growing sticky in his sweaty palm.

Scorpius hesitated again, the sounds of his breath filling the cool room, before delivering his coup de grâce. "Well, you know where he's not, don't you, sir?" he said softly.

Harry turned around to face him again.

Scorpius moistened his lips, holding Harry's gaze and speaking slowly, deliberately. "He's _not_ bent over your fancy Auror desk with your cock up his arse, now, is he?" He pushed his fingers into the open collar of his shirt, as if the room were too hot for him. He dragged them lightly over his collarbone and up his throat, before resting his chin thoughtfully in his hand. For a brief moment, his gaze darted up to the ceiling and scanned it. Just as quickly, he lowered it again and leaned forward. "Isn't that where you'd like him to be... _sir_?"

Harry's brain shut down and his temper lit on fire. Images crashed through his mind of the scenario Scorpius had proposed – Draco Malfoy spread out before him, naked and wanting and begging for him; Draco Malfoy pushing back against his cock; Draco fucking Malfoy shouting Harry's name when he came, biting through his lip and moaning for Harry to fill him up, to –

He strode over to Scorpius and grabbed his jaw again, squeezing it between his thumb and fingers and shaking Scorpius until he coughed and sputtered. Harry flung the phial up in front of Scorpius's face, wordlessly Banishing the cap and tipping the bulbous tip over his lips. A calm fury rolled through him, and Harry held his breath as a single, clear drop fell into Scorpius's mouth. It slid down his tongue and disappeared, his eyes wide and his nostrils flaring. He watched Scorpius's pallor shift and his brow begin to relax with the calm that Veritaserum evoked, and a renewed sense of horror at his actions curled through his stomach. He released his grip on Scorpius's jaw and stumbled backwards.

Scorpius coughed, rubbing a hand over his jaw and working it side to side for a second, his breath coming in short gasps. He threw Harry a poisonous look, his face murderous as he sealed his lips and sat back in his chair.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. Step one of fighting a Veritaserum dose, he knew, involved trying to avoid saying anything at all. It never worked for long if the person affected was asked a direct question, but until then, through a firm seal of the lips and aided by sheer willpower, one could stave off, or at least delay, volunteering information. He cleared his throat, recapping the phial and placing it on the table with trembling hands. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. He was already damned, as far as the ethics of this case were concerned. He might as well go ahead and get his information. "Are you all right?"

Scorpius swallowed, blinking at him before nodding.

Ah, right. Yes or no questions were an amateur's mistake. Harry clenched his jaw. "Scorpius," he began again, "where is your father?"

This time, Scorpius's lips pressed together as he swallowed again, his eyes blinking more rapidly.

Harry pushed a hand through his hair and sighed. "You could do yourself an injury by trying to resist," he told Scorpius wearily. "Just answer the question."

Scorpius unstuck his lips, taking several deep breaths. "I don't know," he bit out. He closed his mouth again, and Harry watched as moisture gathered in the corners of Scorpius's eyes from the effort of holding back.

"Scorpius," he said gently, pulling his chair out again and collapsing into it. "Please. More advanced wizards than you have tried to resist Veritaserum and have paid the price for it."

Still breathing hard, Scorpius closed his eyes. "Don't do this," he said quietly. "Not you, Harry."

Taken aback at the use of his name, Harry sat back in his chair. "Do what?" he prompted.

Scorpius opened his eyes again, his face melting into a pleading expression. "Use me to get to him."

Harry stared.

"Everyone else does that," continued Scorpius. "Everyone who's ever paid me any mind at all has only done it to get at my father – enemies _and_ friends." Scorpius's face flushed and a lock of blond hair fell into his eyes. When he reached up to sweep it away with the back of his fingers, Harry's breath caught at the grace of the movement.

"Why would you expect me to be any different?" asked Harry, trying to keep his voice even and calm now that the boy was talking.

"You're always different," answered Scorpius right away. "Everything you do is different from what everyone else does." He gestured around the room. "The way you revamped the Auror force, the way you're always trying to get Hogwarts to do away with the House system, the way– my God." He paused, but only for a second. "The way you ended your marriage, even. I've never heard of anyone being so public about their–" his brow creased – "private affairs."

Harry tightened his jaw again to keep his mouth from falling open. "You– know a lot about me," he stammered, eyeing Scorpius with new curiosity.

Scorpius's expression shifted again, this time from pleading to desperation. His face was beautifully flushed now, colour peaking on his high cheekbones. He avoided looking at Harry. "Of course I do," he whispered at last, before wincing and shaking his head. "No. Stop asking questions."

"I didn't ask anything," Harry reminded him, and Scorpius's lips fell open. "And for the record," he added, "I _am_ sorry I'm using you to get to him. You seem like a nice kid."

Scorpius's eyes widened a bit at that. "I am," he said carefully. "I can be _very_ nice." His chest rose and fell as his gaze swept over Harry's face and down lower, seeking the open collar of his robes.

Harry blinked. Surely he was imagining things. "What are you doing?" he said, his voice clipped as he folded his arms over his chest, trying to renew his intimidating image.

Scorpius openly appraised him. "Looking at you," he admitted before closing his eyes and wincing again, as if at constant war with himself over what was coming out of his mouth.

"Why are you looking at me?" Harry's heart thudded in his chest for reasons he couldn't even discern. He found himself unable to stop staring at the soft dusting of eyelashes against the boy's cheek. God.

"Because you're _brilliant_," Scorpius breathed, his voice soft and reverent. "Is it true you sleep with men?"

Harry's thudding heart nearly stopped.

"No! Oh, God." Scorpius squeezed his eyes shut and balled his hands into fists over the table. "Stop asking me – _fuck_!" He ground his teeth together and made an odd humming noise, as if trying to drown out the sound of his own voice in his ears. "Fuck you, Potter," he screeched. "My solicitor will have your badge for this." Each word out of his mouth seemed to pain him.

With Scorpius's eyes still shut and his hands now buried deep in his hair, Harry picked up the phial again and glanced down at it. One drop really hadn't done enough to loosen the kid's tongue. The temptation to keep him talking was strong, not only to learn where the bloody hell his father had taken those funds, but also to see a bit more of this unexpected side to Scorpius Malfoy. Just another little drop couldn't hurt.

"Scorpius," he said, rising from his chair and moving around the table towards him, as Scorpius opened his eyes again. He watched Harry uncap the phial once more, and his eyes widened.

"I've already told you too much," he moaned. "I don't _know_ where my father is!"

Harry perched on the edge of the table beside Scorpius's chair. "Don't you want an answer to your question?" he asked quietly, watching the wheels turn in Scorpius's mind back to the last thing he'd asked.

"Oh," he gasped, wetting his lips. "Yes." He closed his eyes and ducked his head down a bit as Harry inched the dropper towards his mouth again, but the protest wasn't nearly as pronounced as the last time.

Harry tipped the phial up to his lips once more and slid a new drop over the boy's tongue as Scorpius sat passively. "Now," he began, sitting back and setting the potion on the table. He watched Scorpius's reaction. "Why did you ask about my sex life?"

Scorpius cringed, his shoulders slumping as he tried to fight the potion once more. "Because," he ground out, "you were in _The Quibbler_ talking about your divorce, and the words you used were so coy, it couldn't have been women, and I just, I've never known anyone who – I mean, apart from Derek Nestlehoven and Evan Brack, but they're just Hufflepuff slags – I mean, anyone who's an actual adult who– _fuck_." He sealed his lips again, clenching his jaw and humming loudly.

Harry considered his answer. He wasn't sure why the truth serum was prompting Scorpius to reveal such information about his interest in Harry's sex life, but perhaps it would lead back to Draco Malfoy eventually. "Luna doesn't print lies about me," he said carefully. "I granted that interview to counter the rumours that were out there about my wife. You're right," he added. "I've been public about– some things. But any more than that really isn't any of your business."

To his surprise, Scorpius pushed his chair back and rose, his chest heaving where he stood before Harry. "Make it my business," he whispered, his eyes searching Harry's face. Harry froze in his perch on the edge of the table as Scorpius raised his fingers to Harry's collar and slid them lightly up his throat. Scorpius's eyes were fixated on the movement of his own fingers. "I know you fantasise about my father," he added, glancing back up at Harry's face, and Harry sucked in a breath.

Harry grabbed Scorpius around the wrist, halting his movements over Harry's heated skin. "What do you think you know?" he snapped, but he held firm, unable to move away or shove Scorpius back down to his chair.

"You watch him," said Scorpius, panting through parted lips. "I watch you all the time at functions, at parties, even in Diagon Alley whenever I see you, and if my father's there, you can't take your eyes off him." He moistened his lips. "What do you think about? He's married, you know," added Scorpius, but his face was open and his tone cautious, not cruel. "There are other women, too. I don't think he's like us. I don't think he'd–"

"Stop it." Harry released his hold on Scorpius's wrist and flung it down, pushing himself off the table and turning away. His mind raced. "There's no _us_, Scorpius," he said feebly, but even that wasn't the right thing to say. "What are you–"

But Scorpius pressed up behind Harry before he could finish the question, his breath warm on Harry's neck as his hand slid up Harry's shoulder. "I want you," he whispered, the words sliding down Harry's spine and pooling low. "You can pretend I'm him if you want; I don't care. I just want to–"

"You're not him," snapped Harry, turning abruptly and glaring daggers at Scorpius, and even as he said them, the words came alive in front of Scorpius's face, morphing from a response intended to manage the situation into pure truth. He took in the boy's features, painted in the image of his father but with notable differences, the darker eyes and the fuller lips, and the way he radiated confidence and intelligence from his core as opposed to Draco, who had always used those things to mask his fear and uncertainty. Harry's shoulders sank and he felt his tense brow relax as he gazed at Scorpius. Before he knew what he was doing, he'd lifted his hand up and brushed the fringe out of Scorpius's eyes, letting his fingers linger over his forehead and down the side of his cheek. "You're not him at all, are you?" he murmured.

Scorpius shook his head slowly, his gaze not leaving Harry's face. Harry fixated on those lips, pink and parted and hovering only inches from his own. Shoving a rough hand around the back of Scorpius's neck, he hauled him close in a sudden movement, pausing only briefly to search his eyes, allowing him to pull away if he wished, before crashing their mouths together.

The warmth of Scorpius's lips shattered him, the heat snaking down through the rest of his body as they kissed. He sucked at Scorpius's bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth with a low growl and relishing the feel of Scorpius's body at once hardening and sagging against him, his fingers scrabbling in Harry's robes. But as he parted his lips and began to press his tongue into Scorpius's mouth, the boy's breath hitched.

With a sharp gasp, Scorpius pulled away and sealed his lips, breathing heavily through his nose. Harry didn't have time to ask questions, though, as Scorpius recovered quickly, leaning back in with his mouth to Harry's neck this time, his lips sliding up Harry's throat and jaw to his earlobe. "I'm not my father," he whispered, and Harry's body pulsed down to the tips of his fingers. "Do you want me, Harry?" Scorpius breathed in his ear. "_Me_?"

Without waiting for a response, Scorpius stepped back and unclasped his robe, dropping it to the floor and starting on the buttons of his shirt.

"No cameras, no sound," he reminded Harry, pulling his bottom lip under his teeth as his shirt fell open. Harry gaped at him, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth as he watched Scorpius's pale, lightly muscled chest emerge from between the curtains of fabric, nipples peaked in the cool room, but even as his cock swelled, Harry tried to maintain his rational mind.

"What are you playing at?" he muttered, glancing around the room. Scorpius was right; Harry had already disabled all the cameras and microphones. No one would ever have to know about this one moment of weakness on the part of the Head Auror. God, what was he doing? He closed his eyes briefly and tried to regain his control, but the sound of Scorpius's belt buckle clanging did him in.

"Potion," stammered Scorpius, his face flushing further as he opened his trousers, his hands pausing on the placket. "Can't stop telling you how much I want you." He dropped his head at that and gave a feeble, embarrassed laugh. "God. I'm sorry. This is–" He glanced up at Harry again, his face painted with desire and shame. "You were never supposed to know," he whispered.

Harry stared at Scorpius, his stomach a swirl of arousal. He made his decision quickly and shut out his conscience once he'd done so. It wasn't his proudest moment, not by far, but Scorpius was here, _now_, undressing right in front of him and begging Harry, and that potion, God and fuck, that bloody potion had done this, and it was all Harry's fault anyway. He tore his own robes open and shrugged out of them, stepping free and starting on his shirt.

"Oh, God," breathed Scorpius, closing the distance between them again and shoving his hands through Harry's hair. He pulled Harry in close and brushed his jaw over Harry's cheek.

Harry slid his hands inside the boy's open shirt and down his sides, feeling the gooseflesh rise under his touch. When he reached Scorpius's open trousers, he pushed his fingers further down, moving inside the elastic of his pants to trace over his cock as the trousers fell down his hips. Scorpius gasped against Harry's ear and tilted his hips, thrusting into Harry's hand. "Tell me what I wasn't supposed to know," Harry murmured, his cheek brushing over Scorpius's.

Scorpius stilled his mouth over Harry's skin and leaned back towards the table. With a quick glance back at Harry and a spark of determination in his eyes, he picked up the phial. Harry watched with wide eyes as Scorpius brought it up to his mouth, parting his lips and snaking his tongue out a tiny bit, just enough to ignite Harry's imagination with all the places he suddenly wanted that tongue to go, and just enough to absorb another drop of the potion.

"It's too much," warned Harry, but his protest was feeble. "You'll be sick." He watched in fascination as Scorpius let one more drop slip onto his tongue, closing his eyes and his lips and tilting his head back. He placed the phial on a stray chair when he was done. Harry gazed at the flush spreading over his cheeks anew, but it wasn't enough to stop the questions now burning through him. He wrapped his hand around Scorpius's dick and dragged it up, earning a low moan. "How long have you been thinking about this?" he murmured.

Scorpius smiled, slow and filthy, opening his eyes again and tugging at Harry's belt. "Since I first figured out how to wank," he breathed. "You've always been in our lives somehow, ranting at my father for some reason or another." He wet his lips. "I wanted you to turn that passion on _me_, see if I couldn't make you moan, rather than curse and shout when you're around Malfoys."

"You're awfully young to be thinking any of that," gasped Harry, as Scorpius succeeded in opening his trousers and slipping a hand inside. "If you just wanted to carry out the family feud through sex, you could have tried my sons."

Scorpius pulled away for a moment to step out of his shoes and push his trousers and pants the rest of the way down. He stepped out of them, leaving him in only his open shirt. "I don't want your sons," sneered Scorpius, rolling his eyes as he backed up against the table, pulling Harry with him. "And even if I did, your precious sons don't want cock. Pity, isn't it?" he drawled. "You try to raise a good queer, and look what happens." A smirk tugged at his lips, mesmerising Harry.

He lowered his head and latched onto a patch of skin over Scorpius's collarbone, dragging his teeth over it while his fingers danced up Scorpius's torso and then down over his hip. At the sound of Scorpius's groan, Harry dug his hand further into his hip and spun him around, his other hand firm across the back of Scorpius's neck as Harry bent him over the table.

Scorpius gasped, his head falling between his shoulders for a second as he pushed his hips back and shuddered under Harry's exploring hands. But in another moment, he glanced back over his shoulder with his brow creased. "Not like this," he rasped. "This is how you want to fuck my father, isn't it?" His voice grew cold. "Face down, hard and anonymous. I don't want that."

He pushed Harry back and turned around again to face him, jumping up onto the table behind him and raising one heel to the surface. His cock rested against his stomach, stiff and red, and his position opened his entire body for Harry's appraisal. Harry swallowed.

"Say my name," murmured Scorpius, running the tip of one finger down his cock.

Stepping towards him once more, Harry let his gaze run the length of Scorpius's body, taking in the light hair on his thighs and groin, the trail leading up his belly, the pale expanse of chest still framed by his open shirt, up his smooth collarbone to his freshly-shaven jaw line. His thick hair fell over his ears and curled at the back of his neck, and that blasted long fringe kept falling into his eyes, while his gaze pinned Harry to the spot.

God and fuck.

"Scorpius," he whispered, drinking in the smile that spread over the boy's face. With another whispered word, he rubbed his thumb and two fingers together, spreading a conjured film of oil over them. His hand dropped between Scorpius's legs and pressed forward, fingers nudging inside him as Scorpius fell back with his hands behind him on the table, arching his back and pushing down on Harry's fingers. "Scorpius," he repeated. "Christ." He worked two, then three fingers inside him. Panting, he withdrew his hand and wet his lips. "Have you done this before?" he muttered, fearing the answer.

But Scorpius reached down and grasped Harry's prick, pulling it fully out of his trousers and guiding it between his legs. When Harry was positioned just outside Scorpius's entrance, Scorpius paused, waiting for Harry to raise his eyes. When he did, Scorpius nodded, a single, determined nod to answer Harry's question, and Harry's mind fogged.

"God," he gasped out as he rocked up against Scorpius, finally closing the remaining distance between them. He pushed forward, exhaling a slow breath through his mouth as the head of his cock sank into Scorpius's body. He felt Scorpius take him in inch by inch, and when he was fully inside, he leaned in to rest his forehead against Scorpius's. Their panting breaths mingled together. One of Scorpius's hands snaked around the back of Harry's head and buried in his hair while the other braced him on the table. Harry wrapped his own arms around Scorpius and hauled him forward to the edge of the table, shoving his cock in deeper as Scorpius began to moan.

"_God_," breathed Scorpius. His eyes fluttered closed as Harry breached him. A lock of hair fell across his forehead. "Yeah."

Grabbing Scorpius's ankle, Harry withdrew and then pressed Scorpius's bent leg to the side, opening him further as Harry pushed steadily back inside. As hot pressure surrounded his cock, he made a noise low in his throat, reaching up to curl a stray lock of hair behind Scorpius's ear. He held Scorpius's gaze, their bodies suspending motion for a long moment. Something flickered across Scorpius's face, a flush of urgency, and in another second, his hands were clenched in the fabric at Harry's back, pulling him in tighter as his lips brushed over Harry's ear.

"He doesn't want you," whispered Scorpius fiercely, his face buried in Harry's shaggy hair, "but _I_ do. I always have." The words electrified Harry, sending a jolt racing down his spine as Scorpius's body rippled around his prick. "Whatever happens after this, he never has to know that," Scorpius added, his breath hot in Harry's ear. "_I_ want you." At that, he pulled his head back again and moaned, loudly and dramatically, and Harry lost himself in this young, eager body.

He thrust in hard, rocking the table against the floor with rhythmic _thumps_, getting off on the feel of Scorpius's fingers digging into his back, encouraging him and pulling him in deeper. Harry's world narrowed to just this, just now.

His cheek brushed against Scorpius's as they grunted together, clawing at each other as the thrusts escalated in intensity. He wrapped one arm around Scorpius's back to hold him up, while the other dropped to Scorpius's straining prick. As soon as he touched it, his fist dragging up the shaft with a slow, practiced grip, Scorpius shuddered against him, his stomach muscles clenching and his fingers sharp in Harry's back. "Don't stop," panted Scorpius as Harry lifted his hand away, covered in come. "God."

Harry smeared come down Scorpius's thigh as he planted his hand there, shoving himself harder into Scorpius now as the kid made a series of small noises in the back of his throat, his body still convulsing around Harry's cock. With a final push, he stiffened and came deep in Scorpius's body, his breath hot on Scorpius's face and his eyes squeezed shut. Colour exploded behind his eyelids, and he felt Scorpius absorb his shudders as he pulsed his release, Scorpius's name on his lips.

They stayed still for a long moment, foreheads pressed together as they tried to catch their breath. Harry felt Scorpius's fingers slide down his back and then around to his chest, dancing through his chest hair, light and drowsy. The intimacy of the touch warmed him.

It was the sound of slow, lazy applause that snapped Harry back to reality with a cold thud.

He stumbled backwards as Scorpius slithered out from under him, hopping off the table and reciting a series of Cleaning charms on himself. "Could you have waited five more minutes?" he muttered as he grabbed his trousers, shoving first one foot and then the other through the legs, and Harry's spine froze. All the courage he'd ever held abandoned him in one pained _swoosh_, and he could barely bring himself to turn around.

"And allow you time for another round?" a familiar voice snapped. "I think not. You have done enough, Scorpius." The voice paused, as Harry's heart began to hammer in his chest. "Well done."

Scorpius's slow laugh filled the room. "Why, thank you, Father. So glad you approve."

As if his brain only now was able to resume full functionality, Harry fumbled with his trousers at last, fastening them and working on the buttons of his shirt as he turned around. His eyes darted between the two men in front of him, not quite carbon copies of each other, and he ran a hand over his face as he swallowed, his mind racing. Holy shit.

All of a sudden, the door to the interrogation room flew open and two members of Harry's team rushed in.

"How the bloody fuck did you get in here?" Collins bellowed at Malfoy before turning to Harry. "Alarms just went off, sir. Didn't even see him come through. You–" He paused, eyeing Harry's dishevelled appearance and dropping his voice. "All right, Harry?"

Trying to process the situation as quickly as he could, Harry cleared his throat and glared. "What did I tell you?" he snapped. "I wanted a word alone with the boy. Mr Malfoy was part of a detailed interrogation plan that you might very well have just ruined. Did you think of that?"

Collins glanced back at Travers and blinked. "I– oh. Sorry, sir. You're– all set, then?"

"Get out, both of you," said Harry coldly. "I'll let you know if I need you."

When they left, casting suspicious glances at Malfoy over their shoulders, Harry felt his knees sag, and he struggled to remain standing.

Tearing his gaze from the door, Malfoy crossed his arms over the chest of his pressed black robes, smirking at Harry. "Impressive, Potter," he drawled. "Gryffindors aren't known for thinking quickly on their feet."

"How the fuck did you get in here?" asked Harry, his voice low as his gaze darted between Malfoy and Scorpius. He pointed at the door. "I've got six trained Aurors on this floor, a voice recognition charm on the corridor, and–"

"You really should pay your staff a bit more, Potter," Malfoy cut in, examining his fingernails. "Although even if you did, I have a few tricks up my sleeve–" his gaze drifted up to the ceiling, where Scorpius's had wandered earlier – "and a penchant for getting what I want."

"Jesus." Harry rubbed his forehead. "You're the most wanted fugitive in Wizarding England. What the fuck are you doing strolling into the Ministry like this?"

Malfoy quirked an eyebrow. "Why, I'm rescuing my son from the completely illegal clutches of the Head Auror's interrogation techniques, of course." He held Harry's gaze.

Harry's stomach dropped out. He reviewed the situation in his head. "You don't– know what you're talking about."

"No?"

"Ah," Scorpius piped up, mirroring his father's stance as he turned his head towards Malfoy. "He's thinking of the cameras, Father. He thinks he disabled them all."

"Ah yes, of course." Malfoy paused. "Is that what you think, Potter? Are you actually going to try to deny that you just violated my teenage son in a Ministry interrogation room, hoping there is not in fact any proof that it occurred?" He laughed. "I should amend my previous statement." His eyes narrowed. "Gryffindors aren't known for _thinking_ whatsoever. Scorpius, would you like to show Auror Potter where his error lies?"

"Certainly, Father," said Scorpius, avoiding Harry's eyes. "May I?" He reached for Malfoy's wand. "Mine has been confiscated," he added apologetically, motioning his head towards Harry, and Malfoy nodded.

"Oh yes, that's right. We'll have to get that back."

Shrugging, Scorpius pointed the wand up to the ceiling, muttering a charm Harry didn't recognise. His eyes widened as a tiny camera, not unlike the ones he'd already disabled, emerged from a shroud in the corner, floating down to Scorpius's palm. He handed it to Malfoy, who turned it over several times in his hand before pocketing it and murmuring several charms of his own over the hiding place.

Harry blinked, his mind racing to process all that the camera would have caught. God and bleeding _fuck_. "But it wasn't– How did you–" He paused, pressing his lips together. "The potion," he ground out at last, his eyes trained on Scorpius. "He– there's grounds for– consent," he finished weakly, nausea welling up in his stomach.

"Consent?" Malfoy looked at him incredulously. "Well, certainly. But I hardly think that's the heart of your problem here, Potter. If I were you, I'd be much more concerned with the use of the illegal potion – forcing it down Scorpius's throat, in fact – and then, naturally, the sexual congress which, if I may be so bold, proved that you are just as morally bankrupt as I always suspected." He paused. "I imagine the Minister will agree with me, don't you? Not to mention the _Prophet_ readers, the Headmaster of Hogwarts and, of course, your family. The scene itself is quite bad enough, I think," he added, his expression dark, "but the extra tidbit of your longstanding, nauseating desire for _me_ really does push it all over the edge into the sordid and tawdry, wouldn't you say?"

Harry grabbed the back of a nearby chair, easing himself into it and leaning his elbows on the table, one hand lodged in his hair. What a fucking nightmare. He couldn't decide what was worse: the threat of losing his job and his dignity in a humiliating public spectacle; the knowledge that Malfoy had seen and heard everything they'd said; or the slowly dawning realisation that Scorpius had played him – embarrassingly well. After a moment, he blinked up at them. "How did you resist the Veritaserum?" he asked Scorpius quietly. "No wizard alive has managed that before."

A smile danced at the corners of Scorpius's mouth. "I'm extraordinary though, aren't I?"

Malfoy snorted, unfolding his arms and reaching a hand out to take his wand back, and then to touch Scorpius's jaw. "Open," he commanded, and Scorpius dutifully tilted his head back, opening his mouth and sticking his tongue out. Pointing the wand and whispering a series of spells, Malfoy reached into his son's mouth and peeled a transparent layer of film off his tongue, looping it up so as not to spill any remaining liquid on it, and pulled it out of the boy's mouth. At the other end of the film, Harry saw, was a tiny cup containing a few drops of fluid.

Harry stared.

Malfoy pulled the device free of Scorpius's mouth as Scorpius coughed, clearing his throat and swallowing a few times.

"Don't suppose you brought me any water after that," he said petulantly, still coughing, and Malfoy threw him a dark look.

"Quiet," he muttered, placing the device in his charmed pocket with the camera. He turned back to Harry. "Any other questions, Potter? If not, my son and I really should be going. We've a meeting at–"

"Why?" asked Harry, still slumped over the table with his head in one hand as he gazed up at them. "What do you want?"

Malfoy gave him a pitiful look. "Oh, Potter. Do I really have to spell it out?"

"He's terribly attractive, Father," Scorpius piped up, "but not very bright, is he?" He sighed dramatically.

"I told you to be quiet," said Malfoy, his gaze still locked on Harry, and Harry tilted his head, sensing an opportunity.

"Whatever game you're playing with me, Malfoy, whatever grudge you're holding, I can't believe you'd drag your son into it like this." He moved his gaze over to Scorpius, silently daring him to look at Harry. "Using him like this to get to me. That's got to be just as immoral as anything I've done."

Scorpius finally looked up at those words, his expression softening. He blinked at Harry, a flush creeping up his face again under Harry's appraisal, and his chest began to rise and fall more rapidly. But in another second, his expression melted back into the role of petulant teenager. "I'm of age in the Wizarding world, Mr Potter," he pointed out, rolling his eyes. "I'm perfectly capable of entering into any... liaisons that I wish to. Independently."

Harry leaned forward in his chair. "And was this a liaison you wished to enter into?" he asked, his heart speeding up again as he gazed at Scorpius. That Malfoy could have masterminded this scenario made Harry sick, convincing Scorpius to perform this way, instructing him to seduce Harry and –

Scorpius held his gaze, moistening his lips and swallowing, and Harry's eyes couldn't help but move lower, taking in the open collar of Scorpius's hastily-buttoned shirt, the loose trousers and the knowledge of exactly what lay beneath them.

"Enough." Malfoy stepped between Scorpius and Harry, narrowing his eyes at Harry. "You asked what I want."

Harry cleared his throat, snapping his eyes back over to Malfoy. "Let me guess." He rose from the chair and stood before Malfoy, his hands in his pockets. "You want to return to England, your lovely home and family and possibly even your job, but you want to do so three million Galleons richer." He tilted his head to the side. "And you want me to turn a blind eye."

Malfoy lifted a shoulder. "It's five million, actually, but who's counting?" His thin mouth turned from flippant half-grin to an angry frown. "It's no less than exactly what the Ministry owes my family for what was confiscated after the war, Potter, and you know it," he snapped.

"And this was the only way you could think to get it?"

"We've been working through legal channels for nearly twenty years," said Malfoy, "as you very well know. To no avail."

Harry sighed, reaching his thumb and forefinger under his glasses to rub at his eyes. When he pulled his hand away, it was to see the man standing before him through different eyes. He could no longer bring himself to want to punch – or kiss – the sneer off that pointed face, no longer fantasise about throwing him over his desk and teaching him a sound, shuddering lesson about manners. His eyes drifted over Malfoy's shoulder to Scorpius, shifting on his feet and glancing nervously around the room. "All right, Malfoy," he said quietly, shoving his hands back in his pockets. "You destroy that tape, and I'll destroy your warrant."

A triumphant grin tugged at Malfoy's lips, and Harry felt sick.

Before he could speak again, a loud knock at the door sent all three heads in the room turning towards it. "Potter!"

Norton. Fuck.

"You either get your shiny arse the fuck out here, or you turn those fucking cameras back on. I swear to God, I don't care about your fucking rank; I'll go straight to the fucking Minister himself with this. I'll have your badge! I'll–"

The door opened, and Collins strolled in, giving Harry an apologetic look and rolling his eyes at the second-in-command who was following him. "We _told_ him you were negotiating a key, uh, interrogation with–" Collins frowned, nodding at Malfoy.

"Malfoy!" thundered Norton, before turning to Harry, practically salivating. "You've got Draco fucking Malfoy in here, and you've got the fucking cameras off? Are you mad? What did he say? What are you–"

"Mr Malfoy and his son are free to go," said Harry quietly. He found his gaze drifting again to Scorpius, who was busy dragging amused eyes over the flailing Norton. He held up a hand when Norton threatened to interrupt again. "I'll speak to the goblins. Mr Malfoy was not involved in the liquidation of their funds. He has provided crucial information on the heist, however. Let the rest of the team know," he instructed Collins, "that we'll be pursuing a lead in France tomorrow morning." He turned to grab his robes from the floor, pulling them over his shirt and trousers as though dressing himself at the conclusion of an interrogation were perfectly normal. His team gaped at him.

"Outrageous!" boomed Norton. "How can you be sure of this? It's against every protocol we have! Against the very sanctity of–"

"Harry, this is serious," Collins interrupted, his face drawn in concern. "You know what the goblins have threatened to do if we don't bring him in."

His hand steady now, Harry reached out and grabbed the innocent-looking phial from the chair where Scorpius had left it. "I said I'd deal with them," he snapped. Capping the phial and glancing quickly at Malfoy, who was watching Harry like a hawk, and then at Scorpius, who seemed to be doing his best not to openly smirk, Harry held the potion up to Norton and Collins. "If you doubt my abilities to uphold the law," he began, narrowing his eyes even as the men shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, "you – and the goblins, for that matter – may interrogate any of us under Veritaserum."

Norton gulped.

"The boy has an aversion to recording devices," Harry continued, gesturing at Scorpius, who quirked a brow. "Interferes with his magic. It's been known to happen," he added coolly when Collins opened his mouth to object, "as you'd know if you've been keeping up with the latest Force Intelligence."

Collins closed his mouth. "All right, all right. We trust you, Potter." He swatted Norton on the shoulder.

Norton coughed. "Right, yeah. Veritaserum. Christ, Potter, you really are a fucking mad man, you know that?" He huffed before meandering out the door and off down the hallway, still muttering about his boss.

Harry gestured with his head for Collins to leave as well, and then he turned back to Malfoy and Scorpius. Leaning in close to Malfoy, he spoke in a low voice. "If I hear you've bought new Firebolts for every Slytherin at Hogwarts, or even so much as a new fucking toothbrush in the next five years, I'll have you in Azkaban so fast your head will spin, no matter what you think you've got on me." His nostrils flared. "Now get the fuck out of my sight."

Malfoy clenched his jaw, a vein pulsing there as he gave Harry a curt nod. He took Scorpius's arm and led him to the door.

As Harry collapsed back against the table, folding his arms over his chest and rubbing at his forehead with one hand, a headache began to pound at the base of his skull. He caught sight of Scorpius out of the corner of his eye and glanced up again. As his father marched in front of him, dragging the boy by the arm, Scorpius threw one last glance at Harry over his shoulder. His eyes were bright and his gaze trailed down, then back up, Harry's body, lingering a bit too long in the middle. When he met Harry's gaze again, he gave him a seductive smile before following his father out the door.

Taking a deep breath, Harry closed his eyes, clutching the phial of Veritaserum that was still warm in his fist.

 

-fin-


End file.
